Chapter 14
Let me just say: a normal day did not include fucking Nicholas Hunter.
That being said...I was having some trouble keeping my hands to myself.
If I had been smitten with int
ernational sensation Nick...the guy who flew across oceans on a whim, the guy who had an ice cream flavor named after him in seventeen states... If I had been smitten with New York bad boy Nick...the guy who knew the bouncers at every club, the guy who spent half his time schmoozing senators, and the other half sleeping with their wives...
If I had already been smitten with that guy?
It was nothing compared to how I felt about homebody Nick.
He was adorable. Irresistibly fucking adorable.
After consuming an entire box of pizza in one sitting, the two of us had proceeded to turn off the television, and turn to each other instead. Cursory jokes and flippant answers gave way to hard-hitting questions. Questions that the both of us answered as honestly as we could.
How had I felt when my father left? How had he felt never really having much of a father at all? What did my mother do for a living? Did he have any real interest in taking over the family business, or was Mitchell Hunter living in a dream?
It was something that neither one of us was prepared for. Something that neither one of us had at all planned for. It was just something we kind of fell into—then kept each other afloat.
“To be honest...I guess I always assumed that the guy would sort of live forever, that it would never become an actual possibility,” Nick admitted quietly, still rubbing my ankles with a rather thoughtful look on his face. “People like him tend to linger on out of spite, and I have no interest in the corporate world myself. I don’t know what I would do if it ever came down to it.”
I nodded with wide eyes. A little tipsy. Very interested.
Just a few hours before, he and I had made a quick visit to the wine cellar to supplement the rest of our evening. As it was technically still in the building, we were technically still ‘at home,’ and had proceeded back upstairs to drain two bottles. The third was open on the table.
“Well, it’s certainly a huge decision.” I sipped delicately from my glass, trying to envision a world in which Mitchell Hunter was no longer present. “A job like that isn’t just a job—it’s a lifestyle. Not like mine.”
Nick ignored everything that applied to him, and focused instead on the single line that applied to me. “Not like yours?” he quoted incredulously. “You don’t think that being a PR guru at your level is a lifestyle? Who are you kidding, Abby—of course it is.”
I shook my head quickly, trying to divert the attention back away from myself.
“No, that’s not what I meant. My job is crazy time-consuming, but my name isn’t stamped across an international letter-head, you know? If I didn’t show up for work one day, the only person who would suffer would be me.” I gazed at him thoughtfully, eyes lingering on the messy hair and rumpled pajamas. “That’s not like how it is with you. There are people counting on you. People who are counting on you to show up.” I gestured around the living room with a short laugh. “That’s the whole reason we’re doing this.”
His eyes flickered about for a moment, before circling back to me.
“We’re doing this,” he scooted a little closer, “because out of all the people on the planet, there’s no one I’d rather be chained to this sofa with than you.”
My cheeks heated with a flush, and he flashed me a quick smile before continuing.
“And we’re doing this...” he gestured to the two of us, “because we’re drunk.”
The serious mood shattered in an instant, and I threw back my head with a laugh. “Is that right? You wouldn’t be talking to me like this if we were sober?”
“Are you kidding?” He ran a hand back through his hair, keeping the other locked on my ankle the whole time. “I wouldn’t say these things to my priest.” I cocked my eyebrows doubtfully, and he conceded the point. “Fine—I wouldn’t say these things if I had a priest.”
I snorted and leaned back against the cushions.
“What—you think your father has infiltrated the clergy? Even words said in confessional are no longer safe?”
It was said as a joke, but there was a little bit too much truth there for comfort. Not since the robber barons and oil tycoons of the Industrial Revolution had one man in the city possessed so much power. At this point, there was literally nothing and no one out of his reach.
While most sons of such a man would consider this power a blessing...Nick did not.
“The thing about my dad is...
He trailed off, staring at the blank television screen as a small shadow flickered across his handsome face. It was an expression that only Mitchell had ever been able to produce. One that seemed completely out of place on a face so prone to smile. And while I was curious what he’d been about to say—I knew much better than to ask.